


you spin me right 'round

by Iverna



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan - Freeform, Gen, swords and banter, that's not a genre but it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 10:06:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iverna/pseuds/Iverna
Summary: A little Emma and Hook moment featuring sword-fighting, an overdramatic move with limited uses, and unexpected feelings. Set sometime in season 4.





	you spin me right 'round

Emma grinned in triumph as she batted Killian’s blade aside, angled her own, and place the tip against his chest. “Gotcha.”

He grinned back, and saluted as he stepped away from her sword. “Well-played, love. You’re getting good at that.”

“Yeah?” She considered it, then cocked her head to the side. “Does that mean you’re gonna teach me more advanced stuff?”

He tilted his own head, mirroring her. “You had something in mind, I presume?”

“The twirl thing,” Emma said at once. “That thing you do where you spin around before another thrust.”

He frowned at her. “That’s not very useful, really. It does _have_ its uses, but it involves more risk than it’s worth, most of the time, since it means putting your back to the opponent.”

“You did it,” she reminded him. “Back at Lake Nostos. And that was just you and me.”

“Oh. Yes. Well.” He cleared his throat, looking suddenly embarrassed. “That was different.”

“Different how?” she asked, suspicious now. She knows that look.

“All right,” he said. “We’ll go through it. Just copy my stance and—”

She knows that strategy, too.

“Killian,” she said, putting a warning into her voice. “Why’d you do it if it’s so risky?”

He sighed, defeated. “It wasn’t a risk. I knew you’d never reach me in time.”

“Uh-huh.” She was on the trail now. She’d always wondered about that fight, about how easily she’d beaten him compared to how much she struggled in these sparring sessions now. “And what was the point? The purpose?”

“Like I said, it has its uses,” he said, reaching up to scratch at his neck, not quite looking at her. “Such as impressing a less experienced swordsman. Or woman.”

She stared at him. “Are you telling me you did that to try and _impress_ me?”

“Not in the usual sense,” he said, grudging like he always was when admitting that maybe he was not such a terrible man after all. “I was _trying_ to dissuade you from the fight.”

She regarded him with narrowed eyes, replaying the memories in her mind, fitting the pieces together. The way he’d parried every one of her blows, the way he’d disarmed her without following through. “You weren’t actually trying to win, were you,” she said. “Why’d you fight me at all?”

“I was hardly in a position to refuse,” he said. “And you were quite determined to fight, as I recall.”

“And, what? I was bad at it?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, let out another deep breath. “Don’t take this the wrong way, love, but you swung that sword as though it was a club.”

She glared at him, but she had to feign the outrage. It had been her second ever time using a sword, and she’d gone up against a guy who’d been doing it for centuries. In hindsight, it was just as well he’d been... nice.

And there was something to be said for honesty. It was nice to know that the guy who took every opportunity to compliment her wasn’t willing to lie about her skills.

Something else occurred to her, something that had been niggling at the back of her mind for a while now. “Hang on a second,” she said. “Back in Rumplestiltskin’s vault... you told me you were there when Cora tried to take my heart.”

He frowned cautiously, apparently taken aback by the sudden change in subject. “Aye. What of it?”

“I was under the impression that you were knocked out at the time.”

She half-expected him to deny it, and from the look on his face, he considered it for a moment, but then he settled for saying, “Ah.”

“Killian Jones,” she said, “did you _let_ me win?”

He gave her look like a puppy who’d been caught playing with something he shouldn’t. “I may have. Sorry.”

“Oh for—” She shook her head, not sure if she was more annoyed at him for tricking her, or at herself for actually believing she’d bested him. It was so typical. Even when they’d been enemies, he’d been _nice_. Or at least, a lot more considerate than she had been.

She felt a new pang of guilt about everything he’d done for her, and how she’d treated him in return.

“You told me you were through with me,” she asked, a little exasperated. “So why?”

He shrugged, thinking about it. “The whole affair was something of a shambles,” he said at last. “I knew you didn’t trust me, and so would never take me to Storybrooke. My only other option for transport was to win back Cora’s trust, which I managed, but I couldn’t have her winning back the compass and leaving you stranded. A flat-out refusal to fight you would have led to Cora leaving me behind or killing me outright,” he offered a smile, “neither of which seemed very appealing. But I still had the bean, and thus, a way back even without the compass.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “So you pretended to be knocked out and waited until we left?”

“Aye.” He shook his head, apparently lost in the memory. “Which is how I came to witness Cora trying to take your heart. I was still trying to figure out a way to help when you managed to repel her. Which...” He ran a hand over his face, shook his head again, and gave her a slightly shame-faced smile. “I think that’s where it started.”

“What started?”

For a moment, he was silent, apparently looking for words. He gestured, off-hand, trying to make light of it. “You know,” he said. “Hope, I suppose. It was the first time in a long time that there was anything other than my revenge that I cared about, or wanted. I wanted you and your mother to get home. And when you pushed your mother out of the way, and Cora tried to...” He shrugged again, smiling that smile that meant he was covering up some kind of pain. “I couldn’t help you with that. I couldn’t save you. But I didn’t have to.” His tone turned lighter again. “You had your hero moment, and all that.”

But Emma could see that he was forcing the casual tone of his voice and the smile on his face, because she could see the remembered pain in his eyes. He’d been there. He’d witnessed Cora rip out people’s hearts, and of course he would have remembered Milah throughout the entire ordeal.

And then Cora had tried to take Emma’s. And Emma had not just stopped her, she’d sent her running.

She’d been asking herself why Killian had been so loyal to her, so persistent in trying to prove himself, despite the admittedly harsh way she sometimes treated him. She’d figured that he probably knew that she only pushed him away to protect herself, not because she didn’t care, but she hadn’t understood why he never gave up. It had taken a lot of effort. He’d spent a long time now proving to her that he wouldn’t just leave, wouldn’t give up on her, wouldn’t let her down.

She hadn’t realised until just now that she’d already done the same thing for him, way back then.

“I’m getting good at those,” she said, trying to mirror his light tone. Closing the last bit of distance between them, she threw her arms around his neck, sword in hand, and kissed him.

She’d overbalanced him a little and he hadn’t expected it, but he was equal to the task. His arms went around her, his stance sure even as his torso bent back with her weight, and he kissed her back like he always did, with everything he had. His sword clanged to the ground, and he lifted her off her feet and spun her around, smiling against her lips as he did it.

“Killian—”

He grinned outright then. “You said you wanted to spin.”

“That’s—” She couldn’t help laughing. “ _That’s_ a hell of a way to distract your opponent.”

His laugh rumbled in his chest, where she was pressed against him. “Not to doubt the efficacy of that particular strategy, but I’d appreciate if we kept this one between us, love.”

“Deal.”

He set her back on her feet, still smiling. She kept her arms around him, one hand wrapped around the pommel of her sword, the other stroking through his hair. “I still kinda want to learn the spin, though.”

“Eager to impress people?” he suggested, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“Look, I’m getting better, right?” she insisted. “There’s gonna be a swordsman out there who’s worse than me, someday.”

“Oh, there are plenty already,” he said easily, his expression turning fiercely proud. “You’ve come on by miles and bounds, love. Not that that’s a surprise.”

She pressed her lips together. She might have angled for the compliment, but his boundless belief in her always threatened to overwhelm her. “Thanks.”

He grinned. “You do have the greatest teacher in all the realms, after all.”

The discomfort vanished, and she took a dramatically-outraged step back, sword in hand. He started laughing, and she narrowed her eyes at him, trying to look like she meant it even though she knew he’d see the laugher she was holding in. “You and your ego...”

He snapped his fingers as if remembering. “Right. _Two_ great teachers.”

“Shut up and show me the move so I can kick your ass.”

“Aye aye, milady.”


End file.
